


Pull Me From the Void

by brittyelaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Castiel in the Bunker, Drabble, Episode Related, Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology, First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s13e05 Advanced Thanatology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittyelaine/pseuds/brittyelaine
Summary: Dean commits every touch, every sound, every breath to memory.  Their names are whispered to each other like prayers in the dark, and in this pleasure, beneath the press of Cas’s lips, Dean feels his broken heart mending the way Cas’s grace heals a wound.





	Pull Me From the Void

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, I just have so many feelings about this week. THAT scene. This is the second coda I've written, because... feelings.
> 
> Title is a Trivium song. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Tumblr!](http://brittywritesstuff.tumblr.com)

They sit side-by-side on the edge of Dean’s bed, their shoulders flush with one another. Sam and Jack went to bed what seems like hours ago. Or maybe it was just a few minutes? It’s hard for Dean to tell. There’s a flurry of thoughts in his head, and his heart hasn’t stopped pounding since that phone call. He chances a glance at Cas, letting his eyes drag over him as if drinking in the very sight of him. “That’s not--” he has to stop and clear his throat, swallowing against the dryness that’s settled there. “Your coat it’s--”

“New,” Cas says with a nod. Dean notices Cas doesn’t offer anything in the way of an explanation, and Dean doesn’t push it. If anyone understands not wanting to talk about it, it’s Dean. Cas lifts one side of the coat, looking down at himself. “You don’t like it?” There’s a gentleness to his voice that makes Dean’s heart ache.

“No, no, it’s not that. Not at all.” Dean’s words tumble out of his mouth quickly, in an effort of reassurance. Still buzzing, he needs to move. Needs to do something. The silence is too much. He stands and paces the room to his dresser before turning back to Cas. “It looks good,” he says, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look good.” He means it. It’s a sight to behold, Cas simply being alive. But there’s something about him that strikes a chord with Dean -- something that makes his stomach flip. It’s not that he’s never noticed how handsome Cas is. _Fuck it,_ he amends, how _gorgeous_ Cas is… But feeling him here, having him alive, Dean’s feeling things he’s never let himself feel.

And he’s done caring. He’s lost too much, he’s been too low, and felt too damn helpless to let himself hold back anymore. He’s got nothing left to lose.

He watches Cas swallow and look away under Dean’s scrutiny, and Dean moves forward taking Cas’s hands as he kneels. “Hey. Cas, look at me.” His thumb swipes over the back of Cas’s hand before he lifts it to the angel’s face, and sighs at the way Cas seems to melt into his touch. Cas opens his eyes, and Dean inhales sharply. He doesn’t try to talk himself out of it. He doesn’t try to internalize or rail against himself. He’s done not getting what he wants. And what he wants is Cas. 

Dean leans forward, capturing Cas’s lips in a slow, heated kiss. They both breathe in deep, and as Dean buries his fingers in Cas’s hair, Cas grabs a handful of the front of Dean’s shirt. Dean’s tongue swipes Cas’s bottom lip, begging entry, and they sigh in unison. Their movements turn desperate, and Cas’s new coat is tossed, forgotten, to the floor. When they part, allowing Dean to breathe, he pulls Cas to his feet, their foreheads bumping gently. “‘M never letting you go again,” he murmurs between kisses, Cas’s tie fluttering to the ground as Dean works open the buttons of that white shirt. “You understand?”

Cas’s hands are on Dean’s hips, and his fingers slipping beneath the layers of shirts to brush Dean’s skin, and it’s incendiary. “I love you, Dean.”

Dean tilts his head enough to pull his lips away, and his hands find Cas’s face. They settle at the hinge of his jaw, thumbs brushing Cas’s bottom lip. He licks his own, and groans, tasting Cas there. “God, I love you, too,” he breathes. He’s never said it out loud. And it feels so freeing. Cas’s return to him has breathed new life into Dean. 

Unable to resist for another moment longer, he kisses Cas with an intensity he didn’t know he had. They make quick work of their clothes - Cas seemingly as desperate as Dean for more - and they fall into bed, moving together until they break. It’s not an altogether new experience for Dean. The last time he’d been with a man was a sloppy, drunken blow job outside a bar in Portland when he was twenty-two. He'd felt so ashamed of himself, stumbling back into that motel room, and he vowed to never let it happen again. With John's voice of disapproval echoing in his head, he's kept his word in the sixteen years since. If he's honest, he hasn't _wanted_ it with anyone... not until Cas came along. 

_This_ , though. Oh, god… _Cas._ This is an otherworldly experience. The feel of Cas’s lips on his, the taste of his tongue, the heat radiating from his skin, the hardness of his muscles beneath Dean’s fingers. It’s something he’ll never forget. Dean commits every touch, every sound, every breath to memory. Their names are whispered to each other like prayers in the dark, and in this pleasure, beneath the press of Cas’s lips, Dean feels his broken heart mending the way Cas’s grace heals a wound.

After, when they’re breathless and happy and sated, they lay on their sides to face each other beneath a mess of sheets, Dean’s legs interspersed between Cas’s; their fingers intertwined between them. Dean can’t bear to part; can’t bear not to be touching Cas, fearing that if he lets go, Cas might just disappear. “I tried to die,” he whispers, blinking away the tears brought forth by the admission. He watches the tears shining in Cas’s eyes, watches the way the angel swallows hard and takes a shuddering breath.

“Dean…” Cas says softly. He extracts his hand from Dean’s to caress Dean’s jaw.

A tear splashes onto the sheet. “You were gone, Cas. Mom was gone, you were gone… I didn’t have a damn thing to live for. I was just dragging Sammy down. I didn’t matter. I just…” He blinks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Burnin’ your body, Cas… Everything I had… all my faith… it all just went up in smoke. I thought, maybe if I died… maybe I’d get to Heaven. Maybe I’d get to see you again.”

“Dean,” Cas says again, shifting closer. Dean welcomes it, wrapping an arm around him to pull him flush. “You _matter_. To me. To the world. To the universe.”

“You don’t get it, Cas,” Dean whispers. Lifting his eyes to Cas’s, he draws in a deep breath. “ _You_ are my world. My universe. You… you were gone. And it shattered. My world shattered.” 

Cas kisses him -- it’s slow, gentle, and loving. “I’m here, Dean. And I’m never leaving you again.”

“Then I guess,” Dean breathes against Cas’s lips as he pushes him onto his back, “my world is whole again.”


End file.
